Page 24 of The Prince of Hidden Shadows (Runaway Prince Hotel #5)

“You forget yourself,” he growls, stepping closer. “Attachment to mortals leads to nothing but ruin.” As if it was a common occurrence. As if I had control over it. As if it’d unsettle the Underworld… I brace myself against his barely disguised menace. “You’ve learned this before, have you not?”

I glare at him and open my mouth to speak, but close it.

My tongue’s burning to poke fun at his own arrangement.

I’m dying—so to speak—to ask where Mother was last autumn and winter since I haven’t seen her in ages.

Living down here most of the year, I see her during those two seasons, but it’s been a while.

I bite my tongue to avoid a potential fight and allow him to carry on with his interrogation.

“This doesn’t compare,” I counter, my fists clenching at my sides.

He studies me for a long moment, his expression softening enough to unsettle me. “You’re a fool if you believe this will end differently, but it’s your folly to endure.” Without another word, he leaves, his robes sweeping behind him like shadows.

The air turns dense once he’s gone, my thoughts sluggish as I head to the thermal grotto. Steam rises from the natural pool, and I exhale as the tension unwinds. But the reprieve is short-lived.

“Funny running into you here,” a familiar voice drawls. I turn to see Hermes leaning against the entrance, his smirk as infuriating as ever.

“I didn’t ask for company,” I deadpan, sinking into the water.

“Noted,” he retorts, stepping closer. “Everyone’s talking about you... and how smitten you are. It’s adorable… if not pathetic!”

I glare at him. “Mind your business, Hermes.”

“But it’s so entertaining,” he quips, his grin widening.

“Careful, Zagreus. The Underworld has a long memory, but mortals don’t.

Your cluelessness is so endearing. I’m debating if I should even take you back, help you mend your broken heart once this little stunt of yours is over like I did when you last strayed from the rules.

We could have wild sex like we used to.”

Before I can make a snappy comeback, he vanishes, leaving me simmering.

Everything about this exchange is a jarring contrast to my earlier conversation with the impish Eros.

His voice had been tranquil, wry, and caring.

“You’re not mistaken.” Eros had said, his tone warm.

“This is real. I had to do something, despite Hecate’s numbing trick.

Théo is your person; you know it as well as I do.

His soul is yours, but it’s up to you to protect it. ”

Thanks to Eros’s reassuring words, a small smile tugs at my lips as I sink deeper into the water. My mind is churning. Protect it. Protect him. Protect us. Easier said than done in a world where nothing is certain.

Much later, I drag myself back to my ungrateful and prying father’s palace to give him a full report about the souls who fought by Nathan’s side in the battle for the balance between good and evil. Everything’s back in order, except for the soul that’s awaiting me topside.

Then, as I’m ready to go back to Earth, I find Charon bent over his pole, working the rag across it with ritual patience near the edge of the Styx. The dark water laps against his boat, the sound a steady counterpoint to my churning thoughts.

He lifts his head as I approach, his stare cutting straight through me. “As far as I can remember, trouble doesn’t find you so soon after a return,” he says, voice even but laced with curiosity. “Or did you bring it with you today?”

I huff a laugh, leaning against a nearby column, the smooth, cold stone grounding me. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” I say. My voice falters, betraying me.

Fuck!

“Nothing you can’t handle,” Charon parrots, straightening and setting the rag aside. “You’re a terrible liar, Zag.” He approaches me. “And you’re worse at pretending you’re fine.”

I sigh, running a hand through my curly brown hair. He reads me better than most. It’s a blessing and a curse. “It’s complicated,” I admit, watching the slow-moving river. “I can’t really explain it without... making it worse.”

Charon folds his arms. “Since when do you believe in jinxes?”

“I don’t,” I reply, considering what to reveal next.

Why? Charon has my back. “You were right. There’s someone.

Someone who matters. And he’s about to do something reckless.

” The words tumble out now. “I should have stopped him, but I didn’t.

I complied when he demanded I leave to concentrate on his… task, but I’m… worried for his soul.”

His brow spikes, but he doesn’t interrupt. Instead, he nods for me to continue, his silence pressing. Charon scrutinizes me, poker face on. “You care about the human.” His voice is softer than before.

“Of course, I care," I snap. My anger isn’t directed at him, but at Hades and myself. “That’s the problem. I care too much.”

Charon steps closer and rests a hand on my shoulder. It’s a rare gesture of comfort from him, and it almost undoes me. “Zagreus, you can’t control what others do, let alone humans. All you can do is be there when it matters most.”

“What if Eros is right? What if I’m meant to be with a human rather than another god? What if I help redeem his soul, but it’s still not enough to save him? What if?—"

“Stop,” Charon cuts in, his grip firm but not unkind. “You’ll drive yourself mad with ‘what ifs.’ If he means that much to you, then trust that he’ll always find his way back to you.

“Maybe…”

“He did once, didn’t he?”

“Sure, but this time around, I’m afraid he might be doomed for good. I already lost him once and—” I halt. A bitter laugh escapes my lips, and I shake my head. “I do have a plan, though.”

Charon looks out over the Styx. “Love’s a messy thing.” Love… “Even the gods can’t escape it. But if it’s real, Zagreus, then it’ll work out, even with your human. It always does."

I want to argue, to tell him that he doesn’t get it. But something in his voice stops me. Maybe he understands. Maybe he’s been there before, too. Maybe I should man up and face this head-on.

Charon’s hand lingers on my shoulder for a beat longer than expected, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—regret or something heavier?

Charon doesn’t meet my gaze. “At least, he has no recollection of our world since you erased his memory. You’re free to seduce him while pretending to be one of his kind.”

My chest constricts, a strange mix of discomfort and defiance curling in my stomach.

Wipe his memory? Pretend to be someone I’m not?

The implications don’t bode well for me because I could never do that to Théo, and Hecate, my best friend who can keep a secret, is the sole being I fully trust with mine.

I clench my fists at my sides, resisting the urge to correct Charon as I dwell on why my decision to leave Théo’s memory intact was so effortless.

The answer surfaces like a reluctant truth clawing its way from the depths of the Styx itself.

Because I loved him. Not just now, not just after Eros’s meddling.

I loved him then. Ages ago. When I thought I couldn’t or shouldn’t, I loved him nevertheless.

Enough to risk the fallout, enough to leave the truth with him, and I’m even more in love with the new him.

Charon’s voice wrenches me from my thoughts, his expression weary but sincere. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Zagreus. Because if you don’t…” He trails off. I hear him loud and clear.

I manage a tight nod, swallowing the emotions threatening to rise. “I got this,” I confirm, but as I say it, realization burns brighter in my chest: I need to be with Théo, until death do us part, and then some.

I’m not positive he’s ready for such a commitment—will he ever be?—but I’m not going anywhere without him.

This is a goodbye to my friends here. I’ll be back… in another lifetime. Before strolling back towards his boat, Charon hugs me. He’s gone in the blink of an eye.

I’m left standing there, the weight of his words settling over me like an unwelcome cloak. The river continues to flow, steady and relentless. I can’t help but wonder if it knows how much it carries. How many stories, how many souls.

But only one matters to me, and I whisper it to myself.

“Théo’s.”